


But The Owls Are Still Around

by purple_bookcover



Category: Final Fantasy VIII, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crossover, FFVIII crossover, M/M, Rebels, Timber - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27082216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: Dedue arrives in the city of Timber searching for a quiet life. What he finds is Ashe, the leader of an underground rebel group determined to set this city free.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	But The Owls Are Still Around

**Author's Note:**

> I envision this as happening before the events of the game, kind of the precursor to Rinoa's resistance group later on. 
> 
> This fic has an audience of one person and that person is the wonderful, kind, amazing StardustCocoa. I hope this incredibly indulgent crossover contains many of the things you love because you make fandom a vastly better place with your joy and generosity.

Dedue paused outside the city, kneeling on the ground. He dug his fingers into the earth, scooping out a small bed where he placed a single seed. Then, he smoothed the dirt back over it, tucking that lone seed safely away. 

Dedue left his hand atop the hole he’d just covered, feeling the heat of the dirt he’d disturbed, the potential thrumming through the earth. 

“Good luck,” he said. 

Then he stood and entered an unfamiliar city, a place named Timber.

#

The city of Timber was beautiful. From the moment Dedue stepped under the arch at the entrance, the city captivated him. Every shop name and banner and sign post was written in a flowing, elaborate script that made the whole place feel old and nostalgic. Most of the shop fronts were pale blue stone, as were many of the winding walkways and delicate bridges arching over train tracks or lower portions of the city. Blue softened everything, from the leaves of the trees to the electric glow of the signs inside the pubs. It gave Dedue the sense that Timber had built around its history rather than on top of it.

Even the TV station was barely an intrusion. It was tall, true, but it blended with the rest of the city. The most garish element of the whole thing, in Dedue’s opinion, was the TV screen, but that usually lay quiet and dark.

Dedue spent a couple days at The Timber Hotel. It was close to the entrance to the city, but Dedue could also easily reach the main thoroughfare on his morning walks. And, most importantly of all, it was near the Timber Maniacs office.

Dedue stopped by the newspaper office every day, picking up a paper and flipping through it in search of work. He had a few promising leads already. The city apparently had great need of folks willing to walk patrols at odd hours and Dedue, being new and knowing absolutely no one, thought that might be exactly the sort of work that suited him. 

All in all, Dedue’s first impression of Timber left him cautiously hopeful. Perhaps his wandering was ending. Perhaps he’d found a place worth lingering in, a place where he could build some sort of life outside of the wars and conflicts he’d fled. 

He was daydreaming about an apartment in the city, a balcony full of those plants that were decorating so many of the homes around here, when the bomb went off.

The explosion was so loud it shook through Dedue’s whole body. He was sitting on a bench near the train station, sipping coffee with that day’s newspaper, but the explosion managed to throw him to the ground. His coffee cup shattered against the stone. His newspaper was forgotten as he instinctively covered his head with his hands. 

Debris pattered around Dedue like deadly raindrops. He crawled on his stomach under the bench he’d been sitting on until the trembling subsided. 

Screams filled the void of sound left by the explosion. 

Just as Dedue was clambering back out from under the bench and onto unsteady legs, soldiers streamed by. He reeled back. Every soldier was armed; every soldier sprinted down the street with purpose. Dedue followed their path with his eyes. 

That garish television screen was gone, well, mostly gone. A hole gaped in the screen, flames licking out from within the device, sparks crackling as the fire found some bit of electrical equipment to consume. 

Dedue ran the opposite direction. One thing he’d learned from war: Get out of the way. If you weren’t going to join the fighting, you could still end up a casualty of it. 

Dedue’s mind whirled as he ran. He’d heard that there’d been some fighting in Timber at some point, but this was well beyond that. This was … terrorists? A resistance group of some sort? It didn’t seem like the work of a rival army. It was too specific and local for that. Someone _inside_ Timber had caused this.

He was just passing the newspaper building, meaning to run right back to the hotel and stay well away from the chaos, when someone grabbed him by the arm. Dedue instinctively jerked, meaning to resist, but the person just looped their arm through his and held up a map in front of both their faces. 

Dedue was too stunned to do much more than blink. He glanced down and saw a man linked arm in arm with him. The man winked, adjusted the map and focused on it like it was the most interesting thing in all the world.

Dedue wasn’t sure why he followed the man’s lead, why he didn’t pull away right then and there. The man was far smaller than him. He could easily jerk his arm free and end this strange encounter. Yet he held still, pretending to look at the map, trying to smooth down his confusion as the stranger clung to his arm. 

Soldiers rushed by. The stranger’s grip on Dedue’s arm tightened for an instant. The map rustled in tensed fingers.

“Come on,” the stranger rasped once the soldiers had passed. 

Again, some part of Dedue wondered why he did not free himself, why he allowed this odd man to pull him along. Again, he merely followed. Maybe he was curious. Maybe he was still stunned by the explosion. 

Whatever it was, it kept him arm in arm with a silver-haired stranger who tugged him around the back of the Timber Maniacs office and down a set of stairs hidden behind stacks of boxes. They wound lower and lower, through dark passages between and below buildings. As they went, it felt like they dipped into some secret world beneath the streets of Timber, some lower city hidden in plain sight beneath the city proper.

Dedue finally found his voice. “Where are we going?”

The stranger stopped. “Thank you for helping me escape those soldiers.”

Dedue flinched. Escape. When had he helped this man escape? “The … map?” 

The stranger narrowed green eyes. “Wait, are you … new to this place?” 

Dedue nodded.

The man jerked free, gasping, hands flying over his mouth. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.” 

“Please, slow down. I don’t understand.”

“How long have you been in Timber?”

Dedue shrugged. “A few days.”

“And you came here not knowing?”

“Knowing what?” 

The stranger glanced up and down the dark street. He even looked up, as though the world above them might hear his whisper through all the stone and metal. 

“Timber is at war.” 

Dedue would have stumbled if they were still moving. As it was, he gaped at the stranger. Dedue had seen plenty of war. Aside from the explosion today, Timber seemed _far_ from a city at war. 

“You really don’t know,” the stranger said. “We’re occupied. Those soldiers, they aren’t here to protect us. They’re here to take this city away from its own people. Well, some of us are fighting back. Most of us, to be honest. Which is why I grabbed you and just assumed you knew.”

“But … they allowed me free entry,” Dedue said. “I have not been stopped or hindered in any way.”

“They’re keeping up appearances. Look, I can tell you more, but at that point, it’ll be hard for you to turn back. You don’t have to help us, but you won’t be able to help them, not once they know that you know.” 

The stranger stepped away. Something quivered in the space between them. Dedue feared whatever it was, even as he felt it drawing him in, tugging him closer like a fishing hook caught in his chest. There was something in this stranger’s soft, unassuming face, in those green eyes like moss, in the freckles that made it so tempting to trust him. 

“Very well,” Dedue said.

The stranger smiled.

#

Dedue had always had a decent sense of direction, but by the time the stranger opened a hatch into a cellar and led Dedue into a room lit with bulbs hanging from the ceiling, he was utterly lost. 

“Ashe!” someone called. A woman with orange hair bounded into the concrete cellar. She stopped short when she saw Dedue. 

“A potential friend,” the stranger, Ashe, said. 

“Dedue.” He offered his hand. 

“Annette,” she said, taking it gingerly, eyeing him up and down. “Ashe, are you sure about this? We shouldn’t just grab any random stranger and show them this place.”

“He hid me from the soldiers.” 

That was generous, Dedue thought, but he didn’t deny it, either. 

“Come on,” Ashe said, “let’s meet the others.”

“The others” turned out to be just two people, both of whom lounged in an adjoining room. This was much more generously furnished than the front of the cellar. It had a carpet warming the floor, desks and computers along the walls, a bookshelf, couches, even a little kitchenette that bore all the hallmarks of frequent use. 

Two figures lounged on the couch, one a woman who responded with a despondent wave when Ashe called her “Hapi,” and the other a person who introduced themself as “Yuri” with a sweeping bow.

“My, my, Ashe, what have you found today?” Yuri said.

“I’m not sure,” Ashe said. “But he helped me.”

“Good,” Yuri said. “We were beginning to worry.”

“Yeah, you kinda vanished on us, Freckles,” Hapi said. 

“Things got hectic after I set off the explosion,” Ashe said. “I had some trouble getting back out. But Dedue here helped me slip past the soldiers.” 

“Thank you for that, friend,” Yuri said. “We would be in quite a tough spot if our little group lost its leader.”

Leader. 

Dedue turned to Ashe, who shrugged as though embarrassed by the title. Yet now that it had been voiced, Dedue saw the truth of it in the way the rest of the group looked at Ashe, in the way they’d been so anxious for his return, in the way they instantly accepted Dedue simply on the strength of Ashe’s word.

“So, we need to talk about what happens next,” Ashe said.

Hapi groaned and flopped back. “We just blew up a TV tower. Isn’t that good enough?”

“No,” Ashe said. “Not until Timber is free. It’s not enough to take out their propaganda machine. We have to put up a counter-message.”

“The banner is ready,” Annette said. “I picked it up right before everything today.” 

“Good,” Ashe said. “We need to get it up quickly, before they can regroup and repair. We’re going back as soon as we can.”

Yuri smirked. Annette looked grim. Even Hapi wasn’t complaining, suddenly determined. 

Ashe turned to Dedue. “What do you say? Do you want to help us?”

Dedue blinked. “I...” He had no stake in this. This was not his fight. So why was he hesitating?

He shook himself. He’d left home to get away from fighting, not to wade into someone else’s war. This Ashe certainly had his charm, though. Dedue had to remind himself that he barely even understood what this little group was fighting for.

 _That’s not true,_ Dedue knew. _They fight for the same reason you fought._ Every rebellion looked the same stripped down to its essence. A people fighting for freedom from the heavy hand of occupiers was common cause no matter the specifics.

Still...

“No,” Dedue said. “I cannot.” 

A flicker of disappointment crossed Ashe’s face. “Alright then. I hope we can trust you not to say anything about this place.”

“Of course.”

“Very well.” Ashe extended a hand. “We wish you luck, friend.”

“You’re seriously just gonna let him go?” Hapi said. “He’s seen everything.”

Yuri set a hand on her shoulder. 

Ashe smiled. “I have a feeling.” 

Hapi rolled her eyes, but did not argue further. 

“See you around, Dedue,” Ashe said.

Dedue swallowed. He had a feeling too, but it wasn’t as optimistic as Ashe’s. 

“See you,” he said.

#

Dedue forgot about Ashe and his group. He tried to, at least. It was difficult not to notice the quantity of soldiers now that the truth of their presence had been exposed. More than once, a soldier would notice him looking and glare back in challenge. Dedue looked away quickly, hurrying along his way.

Still, he managed to make something of an ordinary life in Timber. He even went to the Timber Maniacs one morning after seeing an ad in the newspaper that felt more palatable than night patrols. The publication needed a new delivery person. Running papers and magazines around the city seemed like a task that would suit him well. He rose early anyway and could easily walk or run for the whole morning while carrying heavy stacks of papers. 

The editor at the paper was halfway through agreeing when the shouting began.

Dedue went cold. Even before he rushed outside, he knew what it to be, _who_ it had to be. 

When Dedue exited the Timber Maniacs building, a cluster of soldiers nearly barreled into him. He stumbled back, tottering against the doorframe as the guards shouted, not even slowing their frantic pace. They turned the corner, rushing down a side street. 

Dedue followed their path with his eyes. The road disappeared around a turn ahead, but it didn’t matter. He knew where it was going, traced his gaze up and up and there it was – the destroyed TV tower. Except now a banner hung over the wrecked screen, a banner proclaiming in massive letters: FREE TIMBER.

Dedue ran. He didn’t pause to ponder the decision, he simply started moving, his feet flinging him along a path he knew he must tread. There was no doubt in his mind as he raced down side streets and back alleys the soldiers were likely to avoid. These were the short cuts he’d learned over time, the spaces overlooked by the occupiers but intimate to the residents of the city. 

They led him to the stairs climbing up to the TV station. Dedue pounded up them. Even before he reached the top, he saw a person on the side of the ruined TV monitor.

It was Ashe.

Dedue’s heart leapt into his throat. He pushed on faster, praying he wasn’t too late, that the soldiers didn’t have too big a head start on him. Yet when he arrived at the foot of the screen, it was only him and Ashe.

“See?” Ashe said. “I knew we’d run into each other again.”

“Ashe, you must descend. The soldiers are coming.”

“I know,” Ashe said. “That’s why I sent the others away.”

“You must flee as well.” Dedue checked over his shoulder. Surely, those guards were not far behind. They would burst up here any moment and Ashe would be taken prisoner – or worse. “Please,” Dedue said, “climb down. Hurry.”

“Kind of a problem there,” Ashe said. “I’m stuck.”

“You...” Dedue faltered, blinked. It was true. Ashe was simply clinging to the side of the television monitor. 

“I was able to get up here with the others’ help,” Ashe said, “but we knew the whole time that whoever climbed up here would be trapped.”

“They left you?”

“No, I told them to go. It’s alright, Dedue. Won’t be my first visit to one of their lovely facilities. I can survive it.”

Ashe’s voice tightened with tension, even as he tried to joke about his looming fate.

“No,” Dedue said. He held out his arms.

“What are you...” 

Dedue stood steady.

“Dedue, they’re coming. I can see them running up the stairs. You should go before they think you’re helping me.”

“I am helping you.” 

Ashe paused, staring down at Dedue, eyes wide. Dedue could hear the pounding of the soldiers’ feet on the stairs, louder and louder every second. 

“They’ll lock you up, too,” Ashe said. “Please, run. This isn’t your fight.” 

“It seems that it is.” 

Ashe held his eyes a moment longer, then his gaze flickered to the soldiers. He rasped a curse. All at once, Ashe let go, plummeting down to Dedue. Dedue held fast, scooping Ashe out of the air, catching him in his arms. It was a hard fall, but both of them recovered after a moment of unsteadiness. Ashe was cradled in Dedue’s hold, an arm around Dedue’s neck.

They might have frozen like that, gaping and alarmed, shocked by the feel of each other’s skin so close so suddenly, but the guards were only a couple steps back.

Again, there was no time for thinking. Again, Dedue merely acted.

Again, he ran.

This time with Ashe secure in his arms.

#

The forests outside Timber were thick with life. The trees clustered close together. The ground was lush with moss and grass, springy as a trampoline at times and soft as a mattress at others. Birds flitted from branch to brand. Deer sprang between the boughs. Once, they even saw a bear lumbering by, distant and uninterested in the two humans building a campfire in its home. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashe said. 

They’d managed to escape Timber and elude the guards, but once outside the city they’d simply kept running. There was never quite enough distance between them and those soldiers, not until they were deep into the forest. Only then did they feel secure enough to stop and gather wood and try to figure out what they could eat and drink. Fortunately, Dedue had ample knowledge of what was good to forage from his own time spent wandering. 

“You need not apologize,” Dedue said. 

Ashe sat beside him before the fire. They’d go hungry this night. There simply hadn’t been time to worry about food or to scavenge something before nightfall. Tomorrow, they could hunt. 

“I think I should,” Ashe said. “This isn’t your fight. You said you didn’t want to be part of this. Yet here you are, sleeping on the ground because of me.”

“I made my choices freely,” Dedue said. 

Ashe glanced over at him, his eyes bright with reflected firelight. The way the flame lit his face made him look like the sun itself, far too bright for this place. His eyes were the soft, springy moss they sat on. His freckles were the dappled light that would filter between the dense treetops tomorrow. 

As Dedue observed him, the words arrived on their own. “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps I could help you.”

Ashe blinked. “Help the group? Really?”

Dedue nodded. “Once we are able to return to the city.” 

“Why?” Ashe said. “I mean, maybe it’s dumb of me to ask. We really could use your help. But I have to know: Why?”

Dedue wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was a feeling more than anything coherent. The moment he’d known Ashe was likely in trouble, his entire body had responded on pure instinct, responded as though there was only one path he could possibly take. To turn away from it now would be pointless. He was sure he’d eventually return. 

Ashe watched him, face shifting in the dancing firelight. 

That instinct driving him to this conclusion wasn’t purely selfless. 

Dedue did not bother speaking his reply. He leaned forward, hand gliding along Ashe’s jaw. Ashe tilted his head up, lips parting, welcoming him, encouraging him. Dedue met those lips, savoring their softness, their warmth, their strength. There was so much to this strange, magnetic man, so much beneath that unassuming surface. Perhaps others didn’t realize, but Dedue had known instantly, instinctively, deep down in his gut, where heat now pooled and simmered. 

Ashe reached for him in return, hands light on Dedue’s neck. Everywhere Ashe touched warmed as though the night had not cooled at all, as though it was still mid-day and they were unencumbered, free to do nothing but enjoy each other’s touch. 

When finally they parted, their hands lingered on each other. Ashe smiled up at Dedue, mouth curling with mischief. 

“Well,” he said, “when you put it that way I suppose I have to accept.”

#

They spent three days in the forest before attempting to return to Timber. It was not a long way, but Dedue stopped them short just outside the gates of the city, bending to the ground. 

“Dedue?” Ashe said. “Everything OK?”

The land outside the city was largely barren. Yet here, in this one tiny patch of dirt, a fragile shoot clawed its way out of the ground, the same green as the moss of the forest floor, the same green as Ashe’s eyes. 

Dedue smoothed the ground around it, whispering a prayer for that tenacious little seed he’d planted in this place, that tiny seed trying to rebuild a forest and repair this broken place all on its own. 

He stood, offering his hand to Ashe. Ashe took it, smiling at him, steady and persistent and determined. 

“Yes,” Dedue said. “Everything is OK.” 

They snuck back into the city of Timber, determined to see it bloom.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


End file.
